


Act of justice

by tveckling



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dark, Gen, Off-screen Deaths, off-screen violence, something is not right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 11:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10410669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/pseuds/tveckling
Summary: Valentine is killed in a hit and run. Benvolio isn't the only one who notices Mercutio is strange afterwards, but he's the one who finds him after.





	1. Chapter 1

Benvolio hesitates when he sees Mercutio, and it makes him feel awful. Mercutio is his best friend, they’ve been through so much together, and now that Mercutio needs his best friend Benvolio hesitates? But there is something different about Mercutio now, something that puts Benvolio on edge. It’s been a week since they last saw each other, back when Mercutio had been escorted away by his uncle, and he can’t escape the feeling that something has deeply changed in that time. 

Of course something has changed. Mercutio’s brother died. 

Benvolio curses at himself and ignores the bad feeling, walking over to where Mercutio silently sits and watches the guests milling through his house. The funeral has just ended, and Benvolio would have thought Mercutio would be surrounded by people. Instead it seems like everyone is avoiding him. Frankly Benvolio can’t blame them. 

“Hey,” he says softly as he sits down on the sofa next to Mercutio. 

Mercutio only glances at him with empty eyes, then looks away again. He looks pale, haggard somehow even though his appearance is perfectly put together. There are dark circles beneath his eyes and Benvolio wonders if he’s managed to sleep since the incident happened. He wants to reach out and hug his friend, but he thinks of Mercutio’s eyes, shudders, and keeps his hands to himself. 

“You don’t, uh, seem too well,” he says instead, lamely, looking down on his hands. “When was the last time you ate? Or slept?”

Mercutio shrugs, a quick, jerking movement. Benvolio wishes that Romeo was there; he is much better at getting to Mercutio when he is in one of his strange moods. But Romeo is sick, couldn’t even get up from his bed when Benvolio left him earlier. 

“Isn’t there someone to help you, I don’t know, to deal with- with everything?” Benvolio makes a broad gesture with his arm, then lets it fall to his side. Mercutio isn’t responding to him, isn’t even looking at him, and he doesn’t know what to do or say. He sighs, heavily. “You know Val wouldn’t want you to stop caring about yourself this way.”

“It doesn’t matter what he wanted or not,” comes Mercutio’s voice, so soft that Benvolio first thinks he misheard. “He’s dead. They killed him. He’s gone, and so it isn’t possible for him to want anything. The dead are dead.”

Benvolio looks around in panic, trying to think of something, anything, to say. From what he knows the investigation into the hit and run is still ongoing, and they don’t have any clue who drove the car that hit Valentine. But the tone of Mercutio’s voice is strange, so devoid of anger or- anything, really. It makes the hair on Benvolio’s neck rise, but he refuses to acknowledge it. 

“Maybe,” he says finally, “but there are still people living, people who love you and who don’t want to see you like this.”

Mercutio is silent, unmoving next to Benvolio, then he rises and looks down on him, and those eyes freezes him to the core. It’s like Mercutio is someone else, someone he doesn’t know, and the way Mercutio tilts his head gives Benvolio the image of a bird considering a bug it’s about to eat. 

“Then they shouldn’t watch,” Mercutio says simply and walks away. Benvolio is left behind, sweating and staring at a his back and feeling like he has been told something important, something vital. Something he shouldn't forget.


	2. Chapter 2

He’d finally caught up to them. It had been worth it, everything he paid, everything he lost, because it had worked. The pain was forgotten, and he giggled to himself as he leaned forward to look closer at his handiwork. 

“Mercu- oh-oh my God.”

Mercutio frowned and thought. That voice was familiar, wasn’t it? It felt like he should know it, he just had to think a little, try to remember. 

“Mercutio, are you- did you- did you do this?” 

Oh, that was right. Benvolio! 

Smiling he stood up and turned around, waving happily at his friend. He didn’t know how or why Benvolio was there, but they were friends so it didn’t matter. Nothing really mattered now, anyway. Everything was good. 

“Hey, Ben. You look a little freaked out, everything okay? You’re not getting sick or anything? Because if you are you can keep that away from me, you know I hate getting sick.”

Benvolio shook his head with wide eyes, breathing unevenly as he looked around. If he was going to puke Mercutio refused to clean up after him, that was for sure. He might try to find a bucket though, because he was a nice friend. 

“Are they- dear God, Mercutio. Are they dead? Did you kill them?”

Mercutio crossed his arms and looked around with a proud smile. There was something inside of him, something new, that glowed warmly in approval. It felt strange, and for a moment he forgot what he was doing as he tried to figure out why it felt strange, but the warmth flowed into his head and eased his mind. 

“Yeah,” he replied to Benvolio, breathing in deeply and letting it out with a happy sigh. “I wanted to hurt them more, because of what they did, but unfortunately I got too into it. It was over before I even realized it. But in the end I can’t complain, right? Just look at it all, look at them. Beautiful.”

Benvolio shook his head and took a step back. He kept opening and closing his mouth, and Mercutio wondered if he had been so overwhelmed he forgot to speak. Poor Ben, he never did like to be put on the spot. 

“Ah, come on, I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer, okay?” Mercutio rolled his eyes and sauntered over to Benvolio, hands in his pockets. When he was close enough he winked conspiratorially. “But I did do a good job, though, didn’t I? Heh.”

“Mercutio, what- what is that?” Benvolio stared at him in a way that made Mercutio uncomfortable, and when he reached out a hand towards his face Mercutio waved it away.

“These are nothing, just paint. For the ritual, you know.” Mercutio shrugged, uneasy but not knowing why. 

“Mercutio. Tell me what ritual you did.” Benvolio’s voice was intent, and Mercutio felt like he should answer. Whenever Benvolio sounded like that it was always serious, and nothing to joke about. 

But when he tried to think back, think about why he had painted those sigils all over his face and body, the glow pulsed. It was disappointment, and the warmth that reached for his mind was almost painful, but the moment it pulled back he had forgotten about it. Smiling at Benvolio he shrugged carelessly. 

“Doesn’t matter, does it? No one likes a busybody, Ben,” he admonished with a waving finger. “Oh, that reminds me. You’re not going to tell anyone about this, right? You’re my friend, after all, aren’t you?”

Benvolio shuddered when Mercutio looked at him, his mouth opening and closing again. Mercutio sighed with a small smile and winked, a finger over his lips. 

“Remember. This is a secret.”


End file.
